Uncoupling
by Dua Delacroix
Summary: Hermione Weasley is served with a Divorce Decree the morning after her first wedding anniversary, an act that leaves her nameless and destitute in the aftermath. Draco and Blaise make her an offer that would change her fortune in an instant - but, what good could possibly come from entering into a Marital Bond, with two wedded wizards? HermioneDracoBlaise Poly/Triad. REWRITTEN!
1. I: The Djinn Unleashed

**INTRODUCTION**

Welcome to **UNCOUPLING**!

**UNCOUPLING** is a Poly/Triad fic, featuring the pairing of Hermione/Draco/Blaise, although it starts off as Draco/Blaise with Hermione coming in slowly. When I originally posted this fic, it was literally a wild plot bunny that had no shape or structure and I had zero plan for how to continue past the first couple of chapters. After sitting with a little longer and figuring out what I wanted to do with it, the rewrite came in December 2019.

As of now, December 2019: **UNCOUPLING** has been completely rewritten and only parts of the original story remain. Luckily, I'd only posted two chapters and every chapter posted afterwards will be completely new material. I hope everyone enjoys the rewritten/reposted version of **UNCOUPLING** and this time, there is a plan and a solid outline for the plot and how to move forward.

Without further ado, here is **UNCOUPLING**!

* * *

**PART I**: _The Djinn Unleashed_

**Saturday, 23 October 2010**

Crisp autumn sunlight caught the pair of diamonds in his wedding ring and for a brief moment, his entire hand glowed like a constellation.

Draco paused in his hurried dashes throughout the bedroom suite.

He should have continued to move at his doubled pace, for he had overslept and would be late for his own vow renewal at this rate - but, he couldn't help it.

He and Blaise had been married for eleven years, as of today.

Despite more than a decade of sharing his life with Blaise and becoming a wizard he'd never thought he'd be, Draco still couldn't believe his fortune. His marriage to Blaise had given him a second chance at life and allowed him to become someone he couldn't have been, otherwise. The redemption and freedom that he found in his union with his husband was more than he could have hoped for. There wasn't a moment he took any of it for granted.

His wedding ring was simply a material reminder, a constant reassurance that this life he had now was real and who he'd been before now was in the past.

Draco kissed his ring briefly, smiling as he thought about how he would be standing with Blaise at the altar for a second time in about an hour or so.

A vow renewal had been insisted upon by his mother-in-law, for their first Bonding ceremony had been an elopement that was more practical than sentimental.

Lady Sarabi Shafiq had been quite sour indeed over the past eleven years that she had been denied the glamour and prestige of having a grand society wedding for her only son, bringing it up without shame at every October when Draco and Blaise celebrated their anniversary. It had only been last year, as they'd celebrated ten years, that Sarabi had finally worn them down into agreeing to a vow renewal, if she would never have a wedding.

As soon as she'd been granted their blessing, Lady Shafiq had begun planning the social event of the decade - and now that the day had arrived, Draco was far more keen on the idea that he had been at first.

Times were different from what they'd been, back when he and Blaise had their original ceremony eleven years ago.

This grand celebration that his mother-in-law had planned and his and Blaise's honor was something that couldn't have happened in back in 1999. Even a year after the Dark Lord was defeated and only a memory, the British Wizarding World had been too raw and too broken, everyone trying to discover how to live in the new world that Potter had ushered them into by becoming the Conqueror and slaying the Dark Lord. Nothing was as it had been before and nobody knew what would come next, engendering an instability that made it very risky to be on the wrong side - whatever side that was.

Blaise had been in danger of losing his life, Draco had been disgraced and disowned and had no life.

For the both of them - a Bonding Vow had been the only hope either of them had for having a future worth living for.

The marriage had been discreet, quick, and it took several months for it to become known, but by then, the purpose had been served. Draco and Blaise were both protected through the ancient, wondrous magic of a Bonding Vow woven into their own magic and into their very skin - and nothing would break that unless they decided otherwise.

A celebration had been the furthest thing from their minds back then.

However, Draco felt it was deserved, all these years later. All these years of protection holding strong and covering the pair of them without fail, despite the obstacles that threatened that strength.

In just a short while, Draco would renew the protection of their original vow with Blaise - and, then, the protections would only deepen.

While his mother-in-law seemed to see each decade of marriage that passed as a cause for celebration and glamorous events, Draco knew it far differently.

The deeper the protections of their vows, the more chance that Blaise had of staying human -

And Blaise desperately, fiercely wanted to remain human.

The knowledge of this spurred Draco out of his reflections and into motion with a renewed vigor.

His husband was depending on him to be there at the altar to renew their Bonding Vow for many reasons.

Among them was affection and love and friendship, but the chief and primary reason was one that Draco shared the same feverish commitment toward -

Blaise's continued humanity.

* * *

"If you truly cared about the pauper, you would heed my advice and stay committed to keeping the ceremony symbolic. Don't make the fatal mistake of going through with a renewal of the Bond, for your own good and his, as well."

Blaise did not look up from buttoning his cuff-links to the sleeves of his snow-white tunic.

"You will call him by the name I gave back to him or not speak of him at all, _Ummi_." Blaise shook out his arms, ensuring the tunic sleeves were comfortable and looked as he'd anticipated with the cuff-links - and only _then _did he look up, glaring with a bitter agitation at his mother. "As much as you've complained over the past decade about being deprived of such an occaision, _this _attitude was not what I expected of you on this day. Where is this coming from?"

Sarabi looked evenly at him with her unusual eyes.

A brief flare of resentment sparked within him, as Blaise hated how she left herself unveiled and in her pure form. They were the only ones in his bedroom suite, the one he'd chosen to prepare for the ceremony in - but still.

Today was his wedding day, the first he would have. The _least _she could do was keep up her illusion of humanity for the duration, out of respect for the occasion and in honor of his desire and preference for the illusion.

Instead, her aureate-and-violet eyes followed him as he continued to get dressed, the star-shaped pupils contracting and easing rhythmically, entrancingly. Just as she didn't see anything wrong with her continued private disrespect and disdain for his choice to continue his marriage well after she felt he should have, Sarabi see anything wrong with staring him down at him with _those _eyes.

The eyes that clearly marked her as a Djinn.

Blaise turned away from her, half-waiting for her response but half-hoping she wouldn't have one.

She did.

"You are determined to ignore your true heritage in favor of pretending to be human and your fortune won't last much longer." Sarabi had no expression, as she offered: "I'll bet you aren't even aware of what you'll be doing, by choosing to renew the Bond."

Blaise sneered. "Yes, I _am _aware of what I'm choosing. I'm choosing a healthy, stable relationship that will support and sustain me for the rest of my natural, _human _life." The love-hate relationship he had with his mother reared its ugly head at that moment, his voice brittle and biting as Blaise added: "Unlike _you_, I have no interest in making a Vessel out of my husband and intend to keep him as my only husband, thanks."

Sarabi's smile gleamed like the curve of a blade.

"You persist in your stubborn delusion that there is something perverse or shameful about our heritage, _habib albi_," Sarabi tutted, as if he were a child of ten instead of a wizard of thirty. "It pains me that you believe the natural mating of our kind is something immoral or an occurrence I should be ashamed of. For each of my late _odalisques _to become my Vessels so that I could harness their essence - it is the natural conclusion for our mating cycle. The creation of a Vessel is what is healthy and stable, an act that sustains you and keeps you interconnected with humanity you value so much - _not _this human construct of a husband or a marriage."

Blaise prided himself on keeping his face carefully controlled and not reacting to anything his mother said.

He studied himself in the mirror, hoping it wasn't clear that she'd rattled him. He hated moments like this, when he wasn't sure if she was sharing a truth about his heritage he didn't know or simply wheedling and manipulating him into acting as she thought he should.

Sarabi had embraced her biological mother's Creature heritage and exalted in being a Djinn, when she'd discovered the truth back in her youth - and she'd been living her life according to her nature, ever since. Each wizard that the public had known and assumed to be her husband had been nothing of the sort.

He'd been her prey, instead - a human drawn into her spiderous web by the supernatural allure of a Djinn, enchanted with the unearthly beauty of the Creature that lurked within her human body. The consummation of the predatory attraction was what anchored Sarabi into their mind, their hearts, their magic - their very _souls_, if Sarabi was as skilled as it was suggested she was. Once Sarabi was anchored, it was a matter of time before she consumed every spark of living energy within them, absorbing their essence within her and leading to their untimely but natural deaths.

Sarabi Shafiq was a purposeful and deliberate widow and if anyone was ever bold enough to accuse the beloved only daughter of the Lord and Lady Shafiq of foul play - they'd have a hard time holding her responsible for her alleged transgressions. She was Djinn, the product of an illicit affair between the Lord Shafiq and a wild she-Djinn. Nothing she did could be wrong when framed in the context of her beloved and valued heritage. She couldn't truly be blamed for being what she was and for the conclusion of a coupling with a Djinn taking the course that Nature _meant _it to take...

It would forever be a thorn in her side that her only son - the rare male Djinn, in a race of traditionally feminine Creatures - rejected and despised the hertiage she'd given him, while clinging mercilessly to the pureblood heritage his human father had passed onto him.

If Sarabi had her say, Blaise would have been well onto his third "spouse" by now, thirty years old and marriagable for the past fifteen years. He would have created and consumed three humans as his Vessels and the consumption of their essences would expanded his power as a Djinn and boosted his magic as a human wizard.

Instead, Blaise was preparing to renew his vows to the first person he'd ever loved and the only wizard he ever intend to love, after eleven years of a faithful, steadfast marriage.

Just as she'd wheeled and manipulated and worn down the resistance that he and Draco had towards having the ceremony that never happened originally, Blaise recognized that she could very well be doing the same for her desire to see him embrace his Creature heritage.

Or, she could be telling the truth - and that would be worse.

Blaise squared his shoulders, defiantly.

He wouldn't allow her to get under his skin like this, minutes before the ceremony would start and thus, his honored day with Draco would commence. He'd determine at a later time exactly how much of what she was saying was the truth and how much was simply...his mother being herself.

Right now, he had to meet his beloved at the altar.

The altar was where he and Draco had found salvation eleven years ago and saved both of their lives and the altar was the only place he desire to be in this moment.

There had been nothing that could move him from his path when they made this choice in the silence and desperation of wanting a future -

And, despite what his mother thought, there was nothing that would stop him today, either.

* * *

Their hands looked like copper and ivory clasped together under the sunlight.

Blaise had offered his right hand while Draco had offered his left and together, they stood underneath the awning adorned with fairy-lights before the officiant.

Three pale cords wound around their conjoined hands, waiting to be activated and sealed by the concluding words of the ceremony. The officiant drew his wand, placing it on top of their hands, and drew himself up purposefully, as he said the final words.

"By the power vested in me by the sacred rituals of Mother Magic, I now declare you to be bonded for life - husband and husband, mate and mate, spouse and spouse, until the Veil do you part. So mote it be."

The officiant tapped his wand once, soundly -

A supernova of aureate-and-violet light burst from the cords of magic that had been activated and consumed Blaise and Draco entirely.

Neither wizard could be seen through the cloudy light that was roiling and churning, letting off dark gold sparks and vapors that were rich purple and unnervingly vivid.

The exclusive collection of guests that were witnessing the ceremony gasped and made noises of awe and impress, dazzled by the unusual but beautiful expression of magic. Applause began as most of the guests rose to their feet in wonder. The small contingent of press that had been allowed snapped pictures furiously, not wanting to missing a moment of the rare and unseen moment of such aristocratic event.

Sarabi Shafiq was the only person who leapt to her feet in well-hidden distress instead of jubilation, understanding what she was seeing as the dreaded moment she'd warned Blaise about just for the ceremony.

Offering the impression that she was overwhelmed with joy and couldn't wait to congratulate her son and his husband, Sarabi rushed up to the altar as the gold and purple explosion of light began to fade.

Draco looked stricken as he stared at his husband, instead of jubilant.

Sarabi could understand why as soon as she got close enough to see her son clearly.

"What's happening to him?" hissed Draco. "This is - "

Sarabi turned to the crowd of guests, who were still applauding and dazzled by what they believed was an intentional display of celebratory, exotic magic. A Sonorous cast her voice loudly enough that she could be heard and her Allure ensured that she all eyes were upon her, as she announced:

"The House of Shafiq offers our gratitude and our joy that you have come to witness the nuptials of Heir Blaise and his chosen consort! We welcome you to attend the private reception that follows immediately after the ceremony. If you'd heed the ushers at the end of your aisles, you'll be taken to the reception location forthwith." Sarabi spread her arms wide, the sight of Blaise and Draco blurring behind her as she felt an unnatural warmth at her back. "Please, let us continue the celebrations and give honor and joy well into the night!"

With the prompt efficiency that she'd paid a pretty Galleon for, the ushers began to Portkey their guests to the gardens of her cliffside chateau in Jersey Island. Sarabi breathed a little easier as the guests began to swiftly disappear. Her Allure was holding well, but stretching it so thinly over a crowd of one hundred guests was pushing the limits of her power.

Draco made a low, fractured noise as the heat grew more unnatural and Sarabi began to smell spices in the air.

Just as soon as the last of the guests had disappeared with a pop, within minutes of her announcement - Sarabi turned and dropped the Allure that had distracted attention from her son and his husband.

Blaise had been brought to his knees by the Djinn within him breaking free.

He loathed his Creature blood and suppressed it at all costs, therefore had never once tapped into it to become familiar with the powers of his Djinn nor did he know how to control it. The Creature within had been stirred by the strength of the bonding renewal and after getting a taste when the officiant had sealed their marriage for a second time -

The Djinn had broken free and risen to the surface, with Blaise finding himself unable to control it.

"Mother Sarabi," Draco said her name as a plea, turning towards her as Blaise began to rise up from the ground without standing, pulled upwards by the sheer force of Djinn magic. "What's happening? What does this mean?"

Sarabi didn't answer immediately. She was far too enthralled with witnessing her boy finally, _finally _merging with the hidden half of him, the mystical Creature that was a manifestation of pure magic.

Blaise was hovering in the air well above the ground, his arms spread wide and welcoming, his head thrown back as if in ecstasy. A misting of deep gold and vivid purple light was building around his lower half, a cloud of magic that was thick with the cloying smell of spice and something unearthly and unnamed. The glow that surrounded his upper half was what was creating the unnatural heat, a radiance all its own and rival to the Sun itself.

Blaise finally looked down at them, opening his eyes as a newborn would for the first time.

Draco made a dreadful sound as Blaise gazed upon them down on the ground, with eyes of aureate and violet, his star-shaped pupils obvious even at the height he was floating.

Sarabi could remember only two other times in her life that she felt tears prickling her eyes: when she'd given birth to him and knew he was Djinn and when he'd rejected his Djinn heritage to pass as a pureblood wizard.

Here, in the private moments after he'd renewed his vows and had the wedding she'd never thought she'd see, Sarabi's amber eyes blurred with tears as she looked upon Blaise.

Briefly, her own eyes flashed gold-and-purple, her veiling slipping for a split-second, but it was enough for the Djinn in Blaise to recognize the Djinn in her.

Blaise made an unnatural sound that only Sarabi recognized to be happiness in al-Djinn, the language of Djinn that had no words, only octaves and frequencies of sound. He rocketed upwards, higher than he'd been before - and then, in an explosion of light and vapor and sparks of all shades of yellow and purple, he was suddenly himself again, floating suspended in the air for one long moment.

Draco cried out as Blaise began plummeting back toward the earth, graceful and regal even in unconsciousness.

"He won't be hurt, son-in-law," Sarabi said with rare affection. "Observe."

Draco seemed scandalized at her utter calm, pulling out his own wand to break or cushion his husband's fall - but, as Sarabi had promised, it was unneeded. Just before he would have hit the ground with a force that would have crumpled him, Blaise stopped short and began drifting as if a feather back down to the smooth crushed velvet of the altar he'd been levitated from.

Blaise settled onto the ground at his husband's feet with a groan, rolling over onto his back and sitting up, blearily. Draco dropped to his knees, worriedly, his hands already reaching out to touch Blaise - but, when Blaise opened his eyes, Draco let out a strangled gasp and scooted back before he could stop himself.

Draco was clearly taken aback by what he saw, yet Sarabi had no such qualms, instead delighting at what she saw looking up at her from Blaise's betrayed and shaken face.

The aureate-and-violet eyes of the Djinn that was now fully unleashed, after thirty long years of Blaise deliberately repressing and denying the Creature beneath his human illusion.

* * *

[**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: In this fic, the lore for a Djinn will come from both pop culture (where we know them as "genies") as well as traditional Islamic folklore. So, expect the traditional Islamic folklore coupled with concepts like genie lamps, three wishes, and more!

As you can see, I made Mrs. Zabini/Blaise's mum to be a witch of the Shafiq family (one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, according to Pottermore) and that plays hugely into the fic and the place of Djinn in this fic, as the name Shafiq has Islamic/African/South Asian origins; her name is taken from Disney's _The Lion King_, where Sarabi is Simba's mum and a name I could see a pureblood witch of Afro-Islamic origin.

I hope everyone is liking the rewrite so far and please, let me know what you think of the changes and the new spirit of UNCOUPLING! Reviews are welcomed!

* * *

**Arabic-to-English Translations***

**Ummi** = _my mother_  
**habib albi** = _my darling_

_*All translations are only as accurate as Google translator and other associated online translation services. No accuracy is claimed or implied!_

* * *

[**Edited/Rewritten**: Dec. 2019]


	2. II: Problematic Solutions

**PART II**: _Problematic Solutions_

**Monday, 1 November 2010**

Blaise had not been human in over a week.

Draco couldn't believe the truth of this or the utter lack of ability to do anything about it, according to his mother-in-law, the Healers, and the Djinn Registry in the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

From what he understood, the Bonding Vow that he and Blaise originally shared had been powerful enough to bind them together in matrimony but not powerful enough to rouse the Djinn within. Blaise's mastery of Occlumency had ensured that the Djinn was essentially held captive and put into a slumber. Unable to rise beyond the determined iron and ice of Blaise's Occlumency shields, the Djinn had slept and been suppressed for thirty years, never once able to rise to the surface -

Until now.

Until the second time they'd activated their vows and the magic had become deeper, stronger, and blasted right through any shield or barrier that would keep them from coupling completely and thoroughly.

Draco tried not to flinch as another unearthly shriek - _al-Djinn_, Mother Sarabi called it, affectionately and with the only warmth he'd ever seen from the witch, ever - sounded from the solarium.

The solarium was the only room in their Bordeaux country house that...the Djinn...would reside in, without destroying whatever was within. After three days of repairing every room in the house nearly every other hour, Draco had given in and asked what would make the Creature within Blaise stop raging and rampaging - and he'd been furious when the instant answer had been the solarium.

Mother Sarabi had known the whole time that a Djinn preferred beautiful, gilded rooms that reminded them of their ancestors' lamp-coocoons and could be calmed by copious amounts of sunlight.

She'd never told him, her eyes wicked with warmth instead of unnerving with cold, because Draco had never asked.

Draco tried not to cringe, as another otherworldy volley of shrieks and screeches and undulating came from the solarium.

That had been another thing he hadn't been told until he'd asked.

The language of Djinn was much like that of Merpeople - all frequencies and octaves too complex for human ears to decipher, most times. To his human ears, al-Djinn sent chills up his spine and he still wasn't sure how he felt about it. Cautiously, as the wail of al-Djinn abruptly cut off, Draco leaned against the door of the solarium and peered in, slowly.

"...I'm not diseased, you know. You _can _come in."

Draco felt abruptly ashamed.

He had known since they were children, intellectually, that Blaise was the offspring of a pureblood wizard and a Djinn-blooded mother. He had never had to _experience _that Blaise was Djinn, until now - a decade after marriage and over half of his life of knowing Blaise. Draco didn't think that he was showing how much this terrified him and unnerved him down in his spirit.

The wounded note in Blaise's hoarse, weakened voice said that Draco hadn't been fooling anyone.

Pushing the door open deliberately, Draco stepped into the solarium fully. For the first time, the stunning view of the Channel didn't captivate him. Instead, all his attention was on his husband.

Blaise was prone upon the floor, nude and breathing shallowly in a pool of sunlight. While he seemed human for the most part, there was nothing human about how his upper half glowed with a dark gold light, as if it were pouring from underneath his skin. Neither was the glittering cloud of magic that encased his lower half, broiling and brooding around him so thickly that it wasn't clear whether Blaise had legs or not.

Draco was not mesmerized as he should be, but instead, his chest simply ached. This was not Blaise, for all it was what was within Blaise.

"I didn't know if you wished to be alone or not. I know you're...not happy about this." Draco said, quietly, apologetically.

Blaise sneered. The gold luminescence was fading somewhat, allowing his copper-and-honey skin to be seen more clearly. He looked peaked and was paler than usual. "Liar. You're afraid of me and I disgust you. As I said you'd be, if you ever saw the true me..."

Draco shook his head, stubbornly, coming closer to Blaise despite his hair standing on end.

"Stop that. Self-pity doesn't suit you and I'm no frame of mind to indulge." Draco knelt closer as he dared, overtaken by the cloying scent of heat and spice. "I'm not afraid of you, I'm afraid _for _you, because you haven't been - yourself - in over two weeks. I'm disgusted because nobody seems to want to do anything about it or help you. I could never, ever be disgusted _by _you, Blaise...not ever..."

Blaise's bottom lip trembled, but he turned away from Draco's cautious touch, defiantly.

"Nobody can help because there's nothing than can be done _to _help. This is my fault...this is what I deserve..." Blaise closed his eyes tightly, turning his entire body away from Draco and towards the glass walls.

"How is this your fault?" demanded Draco, indignant.

"I wanted to keep pretending I was a pureblood - a wizard! - even though I am a Creature," hissed Blaise, full of self-loathing. "I am not human. My father was human, but I am not and all this time I spent denying it has now come back upon me with a vengeance. My Djinn is angry, he is wrathful of his suppression - this isn't something that is going to end until he makes up for thirty years in captivity. Twenty of which were spent suppressed and buried under Occlumentic shields..."

Blaise made a broken sound, a sound that Draco had never heard from him, ever.

"_Ummi _said as much, she told me right before the ceremony, but I didn't listen...I didn't believe her just as I've never believed her - but, this time, she was right." Blaise might have sniffed but Draco couldn't be sure. He still hadn't turned back toward him and didn't seem to want to. "She wants me to _beg_, you know. She hates that I've always hated my Djinn blood and she has always been so very angry that I've been passing as a pureblood, this whole time. _Ummi _wants me to beg her to teach me how to be Djinn...she'll let me die before she offers, because she wants me to beg..."

Draco stiffened.

Something cold rushed down his spine as Blaise spoke, though he wasn't sure if it was anger or fear or something else entirely. Sarabi Shafiq was a chilled, willingly wicked woman, as unthinkably unfeeling as she was ethereally beautiful, but surely, Blaise couldn't be saying -

"Are you saying there is a chance you could die from the stress of this on your humanity and Sarabi knows what to do to prevent that - and she won't tell you?" Draco said in a low voice. Blaise made a noise, even lower than Draco's voice, prompting Draco to insist: "Blaise. _Does your mother know how to help you_? Answer me!"

The noise that Blaise made has been a _sob_, Draco realized with a shock like cold water, as he made the noise again.

Here, laying on the floor and stuck between human and Djinn as if he had downed botched Polyjuice, Blaise had somehow lost control of the iron and ice of his Occlumency shields - and now, he was feeling the full force of his hurt, his hatred, his betrayal, his need for his mother.

Blaise, the proudest and most refined wizard he knew, full of elegance and control and grace that was unearthly and inherent by magic, was laying in their solarium, sobbing and utterly undone. Sarabi wanted him to beg, she wanted her only child to come crawling to her, broken and humbled, before she would do as she was supposed to and help him master and tame his Djinn.

That was why she'd been so wickedly smug and pleased, each time he'd come to her, distressed and begging.

She had been waiting for this moment with vengeance and bitterness every bit as Draco knew she was overflowing with pride and joy to see her birthright finally break free from within Blaise.

It was then and there, kneeling beside his fractured and betrayed husband and feeling something very dark indeed towards his mother-in-law, that Draco made a decision. He conjured a blanket with an absent flick of his wand. Although he knew Blaise didn't want to be touched, Draco used the action of draping the blanket over the trembling Blaise to press a lingering kiss to the damp skin of his shoulder.

Despite the sweaty, clammy feel of his copper-and-honey skin, Draco had the distinct impression that he had pressed his mouth to a vessel of fire - and this time, when he shuddered, it wasn't from fear or unease.

"Rest as best you can and if you have need, Summon an elf." Draco said, rising to his feet. "I'll be back soon, love."

Blaise didn't respond, but Draco didn't need him to. There were times when one had to be the strength in a marriage and do what couldn't be done by the other - and this was one of those times, whether Blaise acknowledge it or not.

Draco reached the hearth and with a big pinch of Floo Powder, he made it clear where he was headed and what had to be done:

"Ministry for Magic - Minister's Office!"

* * *

This was the right decision.

Hermione Granger Weasley inhaled deeply, determined that the knot of anxiety and dread that was gnawing at her insides would loosen itself and allow her to enjoy the morning ahead of her. Although this had been a decision that had been made and prepared for well over six months ago, Hermione found that now that the day had arrived, she was a bundle of nerves, doubts, and second-guessing.

This morning, she was resigning her position as Junior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic.

When she'd first accepted the position of Interim Assistant to the Minister right after the end of the war, Hermione had imagined that it was because she was one of the few trusted people that Kingsley had to choose from and it would be temporary. She had only been eighteen, after all. An eighteen-year-old Muggleborn, a Hogwarts dropout, and still recovering from the torture and trauma of the final year of the Second War.

Kingsley had listened patiently to her doubts and her anxiety. He had reserved time in his chaotic schedule to talk with her in as much detail as she liked, as she considered the offer. Only once had he become stern with her, when she'd tried to insist that perhaps the position was more suited to someone who wasn't Muggleborn and less likely to be as controversial as she was. In the end, despite her determination to talk herself out of the rare and significant opportunity, Hermione had accepted his offer of becoming a part of his interim staff as he boldly took on the unthinkable weight of healing a wartorn and wounded Wizarding Britain.

And, the opportunity had changed her life - instantly, thoroughly, and for the better.

Hermione had been focused, determined, and dedicated to becoming molded into the ideal assistant to the Minister for Magic, as Britain had settled down and looked towards rebuilding and moving past the horrors of Voldemort's wars. She'd studied for her NEWTs after getting off from long days at a crippled and hobbling Ministry, passing with the record-breaking scores and earning an official commendation from the Minister's Office when her scores arrived on her nineteenth birthday. She had taken her role as support to the Minister for Magic seriously and become interested in Wizarding culture and history, spending her lunch hours in the Ministry archives and learning about the world she was now a permanent citizen of. In the year that Kingsley was the Interim Minister, Hermione had found solace in the frenetic and thorough pace of the Minister's Office - and, it had been without hesitation that she'd accepted the formal appointment of Junior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic when Kingsley had been formally elected Minister, shortly after the first Victory Day celebration in 1999.

Hermione found her eyes welling with tears, as she considered the past decade she' spent in the Minister's Office and how she'd grown into the witch she was today, because of it.

When she'd started, there was no doubt that she'd been an insecure, anxious, and skittish young girl. She hadn't been comfortable with her powerful magic, her prodigous mind, or her influence as the right hand of the Chosen One. In her own estimation, she was nothing of particular power or importance, not compared to those who surrounded her - but, that'd perception of herself had changed deeply, irrevocably in the years, since. Kingsley had seemed to know this and had been deliberate in the order of her steps, over the years. Each directive and responsibility she'd been given had been for the good of the Minister's Office as much as it had been for her own good, and as Hermione reflected on this truth, she couldn't help but smile through her teary sniffles.

As Junior Undersecretary, Hermione had just enough power to be taken to task and challenged to grow, while the careful and determined guidance of Audrey Crouch as the Senior Undersecretary allowed her as much room as she needed to adapt and flourish in her role.

If it hadn't been for both Kingsley and Audrey, taking her raw power and potential in hand and developing it through the intense, steady, challenging paces the Minister's Office tended to put one through, Hermione didn't think she'd be the witch or the woman was she in the present day.

The Minister's Office had been the defining place in her life, only second to Hogwarts in her life as a witch.

Her resignation felt something like the day of Dumbledore's funeral, when she had left Hogwarts for the final time, if she were to be honest.

However, this was the right decision.

Every bit as much as her decision to drop out of Hogwarts and leave her education behind to focus on a responsibility and a mission more crucial than classes and test scores, Hermione knew that resigning and taking a hiatus from her career to focus on her marriage and her home was the right decision for the moment.

Back then, she had forsaken an education and Hogwarts because she had vowed to follow Harry and Ron whenever they went, in the quest to destroy the Horcruxes and bring down Voldemort, once and for all.

Now, she was now forsaking her career and her political ambitions because she had vowed to be a wife and a mother before a professional and a politician.

Harry had needed her by his side and would not have been complete, without her presence and partnership in the war against Voldemort he had dreamed of ending for years.

Ron now needed her by his side and would not be complete, without her devotion and dedication in their marriage and the creation of the family he had dreamed of having for years.

Both decisions had roused fear and uncertainty, hope and anxiety, determination and committment in her. Both decisions offered the promise of reward and a wonderful, abundant life of peace and love that would only make her life better and more fulfilling. Both decisions had been the most meaningful and crucial choices she'd made for herself in life, thus far.

Hermione took another deep breath and looked around her cleaned and packed office.

Her decision to resign as Junior Undersecretary to the Minister to give her undivided attention to being a wife - and, sometime very soon, being a mother, as well - was the right decision.

It _had_ to be.

* * *

Draco ignored the stares and the whispers as he determinedly marched through the Minister's Office, heading towards the personal office of the Minister of Finance.

He was determined that whatever Sarabi had going on, he would see her interrupted - for there was nothing that was more important than her son, even if Blaise was not particularly important to her. With a bit more force than was probably necessary, Draco slammed open the double doors that brought him from the corridor to the small waiting room outside of Sarabi's office. The secretary - Draco could never remember her name - squeaked in surprise and the two or three guests that were waiting looked incredibly startled.

"Oh. Oh, my - Mr. Shafiq-Zabini! I wasn't expecting you." The secretary leapt to her feet, pale at the sight of him. "Minister Shafiq is in her office, but unavailable - "

Draco didn't even look at her as he strode past her desk. "All I needed to know was whether she was in her office. She'll _make _herself available to me, thanks."

Sarabi was neither startled nor afraid of the sight of him as the others had been, as he walked into her office without knocking and slammed the door behind him. She was standing on a stool before a grand mirror, a handful of house-elves fluttering around her as she clearly was preparing for an event. With that familiar, unfeeling glance that made Draco feel as though she was looking right through him, Sarabi looked fleetingly at him over her shoulders.

"I suppose you've come for another round of histrionics about my son, yes?" said Sarabi, absently. "Do have brevity today, _aibnih qanuniaan_. I have a mandatory event I must be at in an hour or so and cannot be delayed, lest I be admonished about my tardiness from my dear cousin."

Draco frowned. However, only to be polite, he stated: "You look lovely, wherever you're going. What is the occasion?"

Sarabi rolled her eyes. "Kingsley's pet Mudblood is retiring and he is having a farewell brunch for her, which attendance of his Cabinet is required."

Draco made a noise that was neither interest nor disinterest. "Well, given your limited time because of this anticipated event, I will practice brevity - for what I have to say is simple, straight to the point, and will waste no time."

Sarabi looked over her shoulder, again. This time, she was looking far too closely at him, her unnaturally amber eyes seeming to want to look into him instead of through him.

"Go on," said Sarabi, lightly.

Draco didn't so much as blink, ascending down to one knee and looking up at her baldly.

"I will not allow him to beg, because that is beneath him. However, it is not above me to beg, which I have no shame about doing if it will stop this madness." Draco paused, appreciating the annoyed glint in her eye as he referred to what they both knew was Blaise's Djinn as _madness_. "Sarabi, I am coming to you as your son's husband and his chosen mate, and I am begging you to come and guide him back into his humanity. Blaise has learned his lesson, now. He understands the value in ceasing to suppress his - his - to suppress what's within. He wants to learn now and I want him to learn, so that he stops suffering like this."

Sarabi sniffed. "You can't even call my son by his name, as much as he demands that you be called by a name that was stripped from you - even if he gave part of it back."

Draco looked down at his bent knee.

While Sarabi had accepted her son had chosen to be same gender-loving, accepted his choice to elope, been ambivalent about whether or not she would get grandchildren out of her only child's marriage - the one thing she'd never been able to accept was that Blaise had married a disowned and nameless Draco. A pauper, after the Lord and Lady Malfoy had turned him out and disinheirted him from the House of Malfoy. Not even the purity of his blood had been enough for her to overlook a wizard with no name.

Despite it being her favorite complaint about him, Draco never failed to be stung when she brought it up. This time, however, he determinedly pushed past and looked up once more.

"Sarabi, Blaise now understands the value in honoring and accepting his Djinn as a part of him and he wants to learn." Draco said deliberately, humbly. "He understands and accepts that he is suffering because he did not honor his heritage and disrespected the bloodline of his birth. He knows what he did wrong and now, he would like to rectify it and start down the path he should have been on this entire time."

Sarabi didn't look at him as the house-elves finished with their last minute touches and her look was completed with a silk wrap covering most of her dark, cascading black hair. She was a vision in deep gold, her amber eyes and dark hair as magnetic as the subtle glow of her copper-and-honey. After a week of witnessing the Djinn come in and out of his husband's weakening human body, Draco understood the glow to be more than a good skin care regimen or a cosmetic spell.

Sarabi was skilled enough to control her Djinn and blend it seamlessly with her human simulacrum. So seamlessly that after all this time, Draco only finally understood what he was looking at, what about his mother-in-law made her a witch of global beauty and unearthly appeal: her mastered and tamed Djinn.

Suddenly, Draco wanted that for Blaise more than he had wanted Blaise to be human.

If there was no turning back from now that his Djinn had been unleashed, if the illusion of humanity was no longer possible as a consistent facade - then Draco wanted this for Blaise, for his husband. He wanted Blaise to have mastery of the Creature within him, just as Sarabi did.

Sarabi stepped from her stool. A graceful move of her hand beckoned him from where he knelt on the floor and cautiously, respectfully, Draco rose to his feet.

"All I have ever asked of my son is that he not believe the heritage I have passed down to him is a stain on his existence and something to be ashamed of. He doesn't think that of his human, European, Wizarding father, thus it stands to reason that I deserve the same respect and honor he accords to his father - who was not even of this world long enough to know him." Sarabi had never been so straightforward or direct with him and Draco kept his silence, raptly, afraid to disrupt the moment. "I have thought of and decided upon the best solution to solve this dilemma for you, but first - Blaise must accept and master his Djinn. There is no other path for him."

Draco nodded solemnly. "I agree, Mother Sarabi. I sincerely do. Thus, on his behalf, please - lead him on this path. He is ready and is willing to put effort into learning how to embrace what he now knows was a mistake to reject and deny before."

Sarabi made a noise that was similar to how Blaise sounded, when he was finally accepting of something he'd been so previously against. A graceful concession, instead of a forced compliance.

Sarabi put her arm out elegantly, clearly waiting for him to offer his arm so that she could lay her arm atop his arm. Continental etiquette was more familiar to him now than it was in childhood, otherwise his surprise at her gesture might have made him stand there like an oaf.

Smoothly, she laid her arm on top of his own arm, and nodded towards the door.

"You will accompany me to the luncheon I am required to attend as Minister of Finance. From there, I will have the solution to the dilemma my son faces and how to stop his suffering."

Draco was startled. He didn't seem to have much choice in the matter, as Sarabi lead them towards the door.

If bearing through an inane event in honor of Granger - well, Granger _Weasley_, he supposed - was the price to pay to get what he needed to help Blaise, then he would do it.

There was nothing that he wouldn't do for Blaise, now that they faced this problem. Nothing at all.

* * *

"Knock, knock!"

Hermione was thankful that she'd taken the time earlier to sort through her fears and anxieties, as Audrey Crouch-Weasley offered her signature greeting upon entering her office.

Audrey had the eye of a hawk and the instincts of a wolf and would be able to tell at once if something wasn't right with her trusted Junior Undersecretary.

"I'm going to miss hearing that, several million times a day, believe it or not," Hermione said with an affectionate smile. "I don't know what I'm going to do without your pop-ins, throughout the workday."

Audrey beamed. "Oh, how far we've come. Remember when you'd go spare because of my pop-ins, insisting that you knew perfectly well how to do your job without my micromanaging and incessant interruptions of the frivolous kind - if memory serves me, correctly."

Hermione laughed, as she put her hands over her face despairingly.

"I was so prickly, back in my early days," Hermione moaned, with amusement and regret.

"And I was domineering and relentless in my early days, so I believe you had every right to be prickly." Audrey snickered, adding, "I wouldn't have admitted it for all the gold in Gringotts back then, but I was a touch intimidated by you and my pop-ups weren't entirely motivated by supervisory responsibility."

Hermione pretended to be aghast. "Don't tell me that the myths are true and Slytherin paranoia had you worried about little old me?"

Audrey rolled her sea-green eyes, grinning knowingly. "You may have felt that you were little old you, but I wasn't fooled. You were not even twenty and more powerful than any of us in this office beside Kingsley. I was intimidated because I knew you didn't want my position - but, I was waiting for the day you woke up and decided that you did."

"And look where we are now," Hermione said, quietly, a bittersweet smiled coming to her face. "Over ten years later, I not only don't want your position - I don't even want my own position, as of today. Slytherin paranoia was unfounded, as always..."

Audrey peeked at her wristwatch, before closing the door behind her and coming to sit on the edge of Hermione's emptied desk. Dressed in resplendent dress robes that were a shade of leaf-green that complimented her eyes very well indeed, Audrey was the picture of dignity, poise, and grace. Her pretty, classically beautiful face was clouded with concern and affection, as she absently reached out and adjusted a bejeweled pin in Hermione's hair.

"I don't believe that you don't want your position, but I can't convince you otherwise, if that's what you're decided on." Audrey said, lightly. "I personally don't see why you feel as if you can't have a Marital Bond and a career in equal measures, but that is between you and my brother-in-law."

Hermione sighed, looking away from Audrey and focusing on the classic window that showed a stunning view of the Eiffel Tower in Paris. The MagiWindow had been a gift from Kingsley in celebration of her appointment to the office of Junior Undersecretary and it had provided more moments of reflection and meditation than she could count.

Instinctively, she studied the crisp spring day displayed by the MagiWindow as a familiar twist of anxiety and annoyance flared within her at Audrey's words.

"My marriage and my husband are more important to me than a career I can pick up and continue on with, whenever I like." Hermione declared, hoping that the words sounded more sincere than they felt.

"The same principle can apply to your Bonding, you know," Audrey replied, without missing a beat.

"No, it cannot."

"Yes, it certainly can. Your stance is that your career can be picked up and continued on because you have decades and decades of life to look forward to, as a witch. Why can't you have the same stance about your marriage?"

"Audrey, they aren't the same and we've had this discussion plenty of times before. I'm at peace with my decision."

Hermione could feel the intensity of Audrey's stare, as she continued to take in the sights of Paris in springtime.

"Well, then, if we've had this discussion plenty of times, then we'll have to have just once more - because after today, it's final. Are you absolutely sure that you want to resign as Junior Undersecretary and leave the Minister's Office, forever?"

When Audrey put it like that, Hermione wanted to flinch from the cinch of dread that crushed her chest without warning.

Instead, she nodded resolutely.

"I'm sure about this, Audrey." Hermione said, the words feeling wooden as they left her mouth. "I want to be a housewife and spend time focusing on my marriage. I want to spend as much time with my husband as possible, travel Britain with him during the season, join him on press tours and public appearances as a wife should. He played in the Quidditch World Cup and won the Cup for England this summer and I wasn't there for him, because I had to be here with the Minister." Hermione sighed, shaking her head at the memory of the terrible fight that made this day become set in stone. "We've been married for almost a year and it's time that I made my marriage the priority. A career will be there any time I want - but, my marriage is what I want to give my time to, not the Minister's Office."

Audrey looked unspeakably sad, as Hermione nodded once more and met her eyes, stubbornly.

"I have been the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for ten years and with each year, my responsibilities grow and my duties seem to expand in scope, beyond anything that I originally signed up for when I accepted this appointment. Two years into this appointment, Percy began courting me. One year after that, we were betrothed, and the year following that, we were Bonded. Two years after we Bonded, we decided that we wanted to start our family and had Lucy right before our third wedding anniversary."

Hermione could sense where this was going, but couldn't help but smile, regardless.

Audrey warming up enough to her to attend her twenty-first birthday had coincided with Percy deciding that his period of mourning for Penelope Clearwater had come to a peaceful end. Hermione hadn't expected anything to come out of the polite introduction between her superior and her future brother-in-law. She'd been pleasantly surprised when Audrey and Percy had started courting and become incredibly happy for their happiness, when they'd become engaged - a happiness that had only grown when she'd been maid of honor in their wedding and named Lucy's godmother.

She didn't need a guided timeline of Audrey and Percy's courtship and marriage, as she'd been present to witness it all - but, Hermione knew what the point of this was, as they'd been here, many times before.

"Sometime next year, Percy and I are looking to trying for our second, and still - our careers are thriving, challenging, and come only second to Lucy." Audrey gave Hermione a pointed stare, as she added: "Through ten years, a courtship, a betrothal, a bonding, and a child, never once has Percy asked me to give up my career for the sake of our Marital Bond or our family - and, I'd wonder if something was amiss, if he came to me after our bonding and asked such a thing of me."

"I'm happy that you and Percy have found a happy medium, but what is right for you and Percy isn't necessarily what is best for Ron and I, Audrey."

Audrey opened her mouth, as if to press the point - but, just as she began to speak, another knock sounded on the door.

When the door opened a second later, Kingsley stood proudly in the doorway.

"Kings," Hermione said, with true and deep affection. "Come to escort me to the Farewell Brunch that I'm not supposed to know about? If so, I'm all ready to depart."

Kingsley attempted to look stern and annoyed that she knew about the open secret of how the Minister's Office was celebrating her resignation. Instead, he could only smile - perhaps a touch tremulously - as he came into the office and closed the door as Audrey had.

"I am indeed," Kingsley said, coming to stand beside Audrey. His smile was every bit as proud and emotional as that of an adoring father and Hermione felt the prickle of tears behind her eyes, as he confessed: "I'm to be your escort for the morning, as I want to spend as much time with my first ever Junior Undersecretary, before I must bid you farewell, forever."

Hermione blinked fiercely, holding her tears at bay. "Oh, don't you do that, either, Kings! I'm only resigning from the Minister's Office - I'm not resigning from anyone's life. You'll still see me every bit as much as you need to or want to. More so, honestly, since I'll more free time than I've ever had before..."

Kingsley and Audrey shared a look that Hermione was determined not to acknowledge. Kingsley's arrival had effectively halted the uncomfortable conversation that Audrey had been committed to having with her. Hermione wasn't interested in giving her sister-in-law any room to open the conversation back up nor afford Kingsley the opportunity to add in his thoughts, as well.

"You're welcome to come back home any time you get ready, Hermione - I mean it." Kingsley gave her a meaningful look, as he held out his hand to her to help her up from her desk for the final time. "You've sat in this chair since you were eighteen years old and I've watched you grow up into a powerful, influential, and gifted witch. You've made a fine introduction into Wizarding society through this office and although I cannot fault you for wanting to move on with your life, I want to make it clear that you are _irreplaceable_. Home is where your family is and the Shacklebolt administration will always be your first family, now that you're leaving us to start your own."

Hermione sniffled, as Kingsley had succeeded pulling from her the emotion she'd been pleased to have kept hidden from Audrey.

His words were no less than the truth and not for the first time, Hermione wondered if this was worth what she was sacrificing it for.

With their bonding ceremony earlier this year, Hermione was officially a member of the Weasley family and any children or descendants of hers would be Weasleys, as her name was now blended into the bloodline of the Wizarding family she wedded into.

But, back when she was merely Hermione Granger - the Shacklebolt Administration had been her family and continued to be, up to this very day of her resignation.

In this administration, she was valued and respected and cared for because she was Hermione Granger, Junior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic.

Kingsley had taken her under his wing and guided her, tutored her, trained her, and challenged her, as any father would and with the same depth of affection and pride as if she were his born daughter. Audrey had taken her role as Senior Undersecretary far more seriously than was warranted and had mothered and nurtured Hermione incessantly, although she had become more relaxed and less austere once they'd become sisters through marriage. Even the members of the Cabinet - although there had been a change or two in the decade since the end of the war - were something like a mixture of relatives and friends, constant faces that she had to develop and nurture relationships with for the good of the Shacklebolt Administration.

Hermione allowed Kingsley to pull her into a hug, fiercely returning the embrace as she tried not to sob too loudly.

"Is this a preview of what is to come at my surprise brunch?" Hermione asked, with a rather wet giggle. "More tears than I have the bodily fluid to spare for?"

"Absolutely, and then some." Audrey said, with a sniffle of her own. "I believe Kings has poured all his grief into losing you as Junior into this brunch and resignation ceremony, that there won't be a dry eye in the house. I've done my due diligence in ensuring there are enough handkerchiefs available - so, let the deluge commence!"

Hermione laughed and sobbed, all in once, as Kingsley gave her a benevolent kiss on the forehead, and then held his arm to her.

"Come now, my very first ladies," Kingsley said, offering his other arm to Audrey. "Let's take this last walk together and be thankful for all we've done, in the past ten years together."

Hermione allowed herself to be lead from her office for the last time on the arm of the Minister for Magic, determined not to look back in mourning, but instead keep herself focused on what was to come with peace and excitement.

She tried not to think about what it meant that the thought of waking up tomorrow and not ever having to come back to the office she was leaving behind brought her no peace or excitement, as she, Kingsley, and Audrey departed from the Minister's Office as Minister and Undersecretaries -

For the last time, ever.

* * *

[**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: To head off confusion ahead of time, I imagine that when Kingsley "revolutionized" the Ministry, he took a lot of ideas from his time guarding the Muggle Prime Minister and how Muggle government is structured and run to truly bring reform to the corrupted Ministry for Magic. Therefore, where there were vague departments of the Ministry for Magic that were only named as the plot point in the books dictated and there is no rhyme or reason to how a magical government should or could be run...I'm using the excuse of post-war revolution to create a government that simply makes more sense. I've also pulled from several different Muggle governments and blended it together...so, it won't be necessary to point out that the new Ministry is nothing like how Muggle government would be. :)

Onward to the next chapter, which will be the first original/never posted chapter of the rewritten **UNCOUPLING**! Reviews are welcome!

* * *

**Arabic-to-English Translations**

_aibnih qanuniaan =_ son-in-law

* * *

[**Edited/Rewritten**: Dec. 2019]


	3. III: Morgana Hall

*** **CRUCIALLY IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE - PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE READING THIS CHAPTER!** ***

When I first posted **UNCOUPLING**, I made it clear that I had no idea where it was going and it was a random plot bunny. That was in August 2019 and this story remained on hiatus since then, because I had nothing more to write as it was. However, in the months since, I have gone back and given this fic a plot and outlined it as I would any other planned story, thus this rewrite was born.

**BOTH CHAPTER ONE AND CHAPTER TWO HAVE BEEN REWRITTEN.**

They are not the same as you read upon the original posting, but they do have parts from the first draft. It is necessary before reading this chapter or any future updates to go back and read the rewritten Ch. I + Ch. II. This story has a plot that was not present in the original iteration and thus, this chapter will make zero sense nor seem like an update, if you don't go back and read the rewrite.

Luckily, there were only two chapters before this, so there isn't much to go back and look over. Other than that, starting from here, all updates will be regular and continue on with this new plot. I hope that I haven't lost any readers with this rewrite, but welcome to all the new readers who are now joining.

Here is Part III, the long-awaited updated to **UNCOUPLING**!

* * *

**PART III**: _Morgana Hall_

Draco drew far fewer stares as he walked through the Ministry with his mother-in-law than he had when he'd been alone. When he remarked upon such, Sarabi smirked prettily, nodding regally at someone who greeted her as they crossed the Atrium.

"It isn't you they aren't staring it. It is that they can't help but be captivated by me, instead."

Draco pondered this, looking more closely as Sarabi steered them towards the Corridor of Halls. He could see what she was saying, now that she'd pointed it out to him. There was nothing _to _look at in Draco, not when Sarabi Shafiq was on his arm, having crossed the Atrium like a goddess headed to temple. Adorned in the finest robes and jewels and looking like the embodiment of every facet of gold, one would have to be blind not to be drawn to Sarabi's presence - and suddenly, Draco found himself quite grateful.

On his mother-in-law's arm, he was invisible, and it gave him hope that he could be once more when Blaise learned whatever skill this was that Sarabi possessed masterfully.

The doors of the Morgana Hall were open, allowing the dull roar of conversation to fill the end of the corridor as they got closer. To his relief, Sarabi was leading them through a side door that would lead to the private boxes that lined high on the walls of Morgana Hall, allowing those dignified guests to be seated in the audience while not among the crowd.

The box that Sarabi had reserved for her as the Minister of Finance gave a direct view of the hall below them. Draco seated his mother-in-law, respectfully, before settling in the seat beside her at the small dining table. He couldn't help but look around curiously, wondering if others were to join them.

"I have the box to myself." Sarabi said, reading his expression correctly, it seemed. "We'll be alone, which is more auspicious than I hoped for, considering the gathering of lesser bloods among the collection of humans here."

Draco couldn't help but agree.

It hadn't been hard to notice the garish, scarlet and ginger heads of Granger's in-laws, the Weasleys, as well as the too-large figure of the half-breed Hagrid - and Draco knew without studying the crowd further that it was his great fortune to be seated in a private box with his Minister mother-in-law.

Thankful for this isolation, Draco turned to Sarabi, giving her a direct look, despite the fact that she wasn't looking at him at all.

"Will you tell me the solution now or later?"

Something like a smile pulled at the edges of her mouth, as Sarabi declared softly, "Later. The solution hasn't arrived yet, but I'll let you know when it does."

* * *

"Hooper, good morning - "

"Good morning, Madam Undersecretary. What can I do for you?"

Hermione's smile was fleeting for Geoffery Hooper, the Head of Ministry Security. "I know you're quite busy and may not have noticed, but are you aware of whether or not my husband has checked in with security yet?"

Once again, although she'd done so only seconds previously, Hermione scanned the Morgana Hall anxiously, looking for the head of red hair that mattered the most. The privacy window of the chamber she was waiting in, off of Morgana Hall, allowed her to see all who were seated and pleasantly awaiting the beginning of the brunch - and no matter how many times she looked, she had yet to see Ron.

Already, Hermione had pinpointed Arthur and Molly, seated at the head of the table that had been reserved for her in-laws, near the front of the hall. The streaks of silver in Molly's wealth of auburn hair seemed like shooting stars from this distance, complementing the gray at Arthur's temples rather sweetly.

Bill and Fleur were talking and laughing with Molly and Arthur, glancing over at their children every few seconds, mindfully. Victoire was riveted upon a book that was before her on the table, her freckled fingers twirling at the ends of strawberry blonde braid, absently as she read. Victoire would shoo the twins away irritably, each time Dominique or Louis leaned their frost-blond heads over and interrupted her reading - and, the squabbles that commenced from this where clearly what Bill and Fleur had been keeping an eye out for.

Charlie was there, surprisingly, dressed far more casually than anyone else in attendance. His dragonhide fatigues were almost garish compared to the fine dressrobery of those who surrounded him and Hermione figured that he must have delayed his Portkey out of the country, just for the opportunity to be here this morning for her, with the rest of their family.

Percy had clearly been the parent to take the morning off, as he had Lucy comfortably wrapped in her baby carrier on his chest, as he spoke with Audrey quietly near the dais and they shared an infectious smile about something or another.

George and Angelina had only just arrived, both looking harried and tired but still happy to be present. George let go of little Freddie's hand as soon as the famliy was in eyesight and with a skip in his step, Freddie raced ahead to sit with his cousins, ignoring the obvious admonishment from Angelina to mind his manners and be careful with his dress robes. Hermione couldn't help but smile at the sight of baby Roxanne walking unsteadily between them, her cinnamon-brown fingers clutched securely around each of her parent's fingers as she continued practicing the fairly new skill of walking.

Ginny waved excitedly from where she was sitting with Charlie, when she noticed Angelina and George coming up the aisle, motioning them to their seats with a grin. As she rubbed the proud swell of her pregnancy absently, Ginny leaned around Charlie to say something to her own twins, James and Sirius - likely a warning to behave themselves as Freddie joined their group, as the three were known to be trouble when linked together for any length of time. Little Rubeus was asleep in Molly's arms, napping contentedly out of the reach of his mischievous older brothers, and Ginny seemed thankful that all three of her boys were peaceable and behaved in the midst of such an important event - for the moment, at least.

The only ones who hadn't arrived yet were Ron and Harry - but, Harry, she knew, was a part of the ceremony to be given in her honor and wouldn't yet be seated with the family, just yet.

Ron was the only one who wasn't here.

Her husband, of all people, seemed to be the last to arrive and the closer it got to the time when her Farewell Brunch was supposed to commence, the more her anxiety grew.

Dutifully, for he must have recognized the pinched expression on her face, Hooper consulted his wristwatch.

"Mr. Weasley is in the Ministry, for certain, Madam Undersecretary, still in the Atrium as far as my detail reports."

Hermione breathed out in relief, releasing a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"The Atrium. He would choose the most public entrance to come through, knowing he'll be delayed and stopped by people wanting autographs or to talk about the final game of the season next week..."

Hooper grinned suddenly. "Well, no offense, Madam Undersecretary - but, when one has an undefeated season like you're husband has this year, the public is bound to want to stop and chat. Would you like me to go and get him for you, Madam Undersecretary?"

"No, thank you, Hooper. I'll use my clearances to Apparate, just this once, and Side-Along him right here where he needs to be, instead of with his fans."

Hooper nooded, recording the action on his wristwatch, and with a sigh of annoyance that she even had to do something like this on a day where she was only supposed to be enjoying and celebrating the end of her time at the Ministry, Hermione Apparated into the Artrium.

The Atrium materialized around her, revealing a surprisingly scarce number of people, and thus, it was rather easy to spot her husband, although she was several feet away. The scarlet hair was identifiable as the familiarity of his magical aura and without realizing it, Hermione smiled. As always, he was talking rather intently to someone she couldn't see, and judging by the enthusiastic gestures, it was likely to be a fan or an agent of the Department of Magical Game and Sports.

Hermione came up behind him, not as agitated as she expected she'd be, considering he'd apparently lost all track of time.

"There you are, Ronald, I've been looking all over for you - " Hermione's words broke off, as Ron and his companion both looked towards her at the the sound of her voice. She blinked in surprise, not certain how she should continue, as Lavender Brown glared at her and Ron looked startled to see her. "Oh. Hello, Lavender - it's been a while since we've seen one another. How are you?"

A decade in the highest office in the Ministry had trained Hermione to have a flawlessly polite and genial bearing with anyone she came across, no matter if she was being well-received or not. She could tell by the brittle, uncharitable frown on Lavender's face the practice was still necessary as a skill.

"Granger," Lavender said with a cold nod. "I'm as well as can be considered."

Hermione didn't have to wonder what Lavender meant, as the other witch shifted her weight with a wince - and her robes fell away to reveal she was pregnant as Ginny was, perhaps even further. Somehow, Hermione hadn't noticed before and she was startled to see that her former dormmate was expecting.

Werewolves weren't known to carry pregnancies successfully, as far as she knew.

Yet, here Lavender was - her pregnancy appearing to be taxing, but no different than any of the other magical pregnancies that Hermione had witnessed over the past decade.

"I - well, um - congratulations, Lavender." Hermione said, hating how halting and unsure her words sounded and the unfortunate implications such a tone could carry in this context. "I'm happy to see that you're doing well and thriving, as it seems. When is your baby due to be born?"

Lavender rubbed her scarred hands over her full belly, protectively, eyeing Hermione balefully as she answered.

"Right around the New Year." Lavender narrowed her eyes, suddenly, adding with an edge of smug satisfaction: "I'm having a son and his name with be Ronan Hugh."

Hermione made a polite noise acknowledging the unsolicited information, glancing at her husband silently, with a question she knew he understood in her eyes.

"I was rushing off the lift to get to the hall on time and bumped into Lavender. I had to stop and make sure she was alright and it has been a while since I've seen her - I guess a quick hello and apology turned into a longer chat than I realized." Ron gave her a sound kiss on the lips. "I know I'm late and I'm sorry, love."

Lavender shifted her weight again, making a sound that indicated that she was putting quite a bit of effort into simply standing on her own feet.

"You should probably get off your feet soon, from the looks of it," Ron offered, with a grin. "You look like you're fit to burst and it can't be comfortable waddling around here, as such."

"I'm going, I'm going," Lavender said, grumpily. "I was only here to fetch something I forgot to pack when I was closing up my office for my matresence leave. I'm headed home, just as soon as Mum and Rosie come back from the cafe."

Hermione cleared her throat, as politely as she could, reminding Ron of the reason that she'd interrupted to start with.

"I won't hold the pair of you up, any longer. Seems you have somewhere important to be, by the looks of it, Granger, so I'll turn your husband back over to you." Lavender gave her another look, not nearly as baleful as before but certainly heavy with something that made Hermione uncomfortable. "Where are you two headed, anyhow?"

"It's a surprise that she's not supposed to know about, but knows about anyhow, because she knows everything." Ron declared, with a kiss to her cheek that softened his words, immensely.

Lavender looked away, as someone caught her attention. The words were low, almost imperceptible, but Hermione heard it: "She doesn't know _everything_, I'm sure..."

Hermione frowned as the muttered words made something prickle uncomfortably down her spine. She didn't have the chance to ask Lavender what she'd meant or if she'd misheard, for with a polite farewell and well wishes for her matresence, Ron tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and lead them away from their fellow former Gryffindor.

Although Hermione was relieved to be away from Lavender and her awful-as-always attitude, she couldn't help but glance back over her shoulder as Ron intently led her back towards Morgana Hall.

Lavender was holding her hands out as a small girl rushed towards her, trailed with almost equal energy by an older witch who had to be Lavender's mother.

The little girl must be Rosie, then - the Mum and Rosie that Lavender had said she'd been waiting on, while she'd chatted idly with Ron near the lifts.

"Mummy, Mummy, lookit! Grammy got us treats from Mr. Flume in the bakery!" Rosie's bright, intelligent voice carried across the Atrium easily, with so few people in around this time of morning. "I got a sticky bun for me and Grammy got a box of treacle tart for her. We didn't forget about you and baby Ronnie, either - "

"Lower your voice, poppet. I'm right here and there's no need to shout."

"We got Sugar Quills for you and more Chocolate Cauldron Cakes for Daddy - where's Daddy, Mummy? I didn't get to give him other Cauldron Cakes..."

Hermione frowned, as she and Ron turned down the corridor that would lead them to the oak doors of Morgana Hall and Lavender and her child's voice faded from hearing.

"What were the two of you talking about, Ron?" Hermione asked, as they neared Morgana Hall and the private entrance that would take them to the chamber she'd previously been waiting in. She'd forgotten all about Apparating back, the encounter with Lavender had startled her so.

Ron frowned as he nodded in greeting at the Watchwizard posted at the chamber door. "We weren't talking about anything - I told you, I literally knocked into her coming off of the lift, and well, you've seen her. She looks about ready to pop! I couldn't just keep on and not check and see if she was alright."

Hermione had no choice but to accept the answer, as the Watchwizard allowed them to enter the chamber and she was immediately accosted by Audrey.

"_There _you are!" Audrey said, throwing her hands up in exasperation and relief. "I know as of eight o'clock, you're officially resigned as Junior Undersecretary - but, really, tardiness to your own brunch on your last day?"

"Circe's tit, you're Percy's wife, aren't you?" Ron snickered as he gave Audrey a brotherly kiss on the cheek in greeting, ignoring her withering glare. "Calm down, Aud. I'm the one who's at fault for her being late. But, we're here now - so, no worries."

Audrey rolled her eyes at her husband's youngest brother, but said no more as she grabbed Hermione's wrist insistenly and blindfolded her with a piece of cloth she'd only just Conjured.

Hermione allowed herself to be blindfolded, playing along with the impression that the Farewell Brunch was a complete surprise to her, and glanced over at her husband -

A crushing, sinking feeling began twisting her stomach as she watched Ron discreetly pop the last of a Cauldron Cake in his mouth, just as her eyes were covered in unexpected, opaque darkness.

* * *

The Minister for Magic rose to his feet and raised his hands, instantly gathering the attention and the silence of the crowd.

Draco looked on curiously, taking a sip from his wineglass. The Minister began speaking, but paying absolutely no mind to his mother-in-law's cousin, Draco leaned over slightly towards Sarabi.

"So, what _is_ the reason why Granger is retiring?" asked Draco, unable to help his curiosity. "I didn't think she'd step down until she was the Minister herself."

Sarabi snorted most delicately. "Her marriage is the reason she gave the Minister for her premature retirement."

Draco blinked. "Excuse me?"

"It won't seem any less absurd if I repeat myself." Sarabi said, clapping politely as the Minister concluded his speech and Harry Potter stepped forward in his place. "As far as Kingsley shared, she approached him six months ago and said she'd be resigning to be a housewife and start a family."

"What an utter _waste_," breathed Draco, glancing down at the crowd and his eyes falling on the pack of Weasleys. "I always knew that pathetic excuse for a family would ruin her, the foolish witch..."

Sarabi looked over at him sharply, with great and plain interest. "Oh?"

Draco refused to look at her directly. Instead, he took another sip or two or three from his wineglass, watching Potter blathering on but not listening in the least. "I spent most of my education at Hogwarts with her, I know how insufferably brilliant she is - for a Muggleborn, most certainly. Then, if all they said about her and what she did during the war is true...well, I'd be as foolish as she is to deny that and agree that homemaking and motherhood is all she's good for."

Sarabi began applauding again, as everyone else was, and then, the entire hall was rising to their feet. She was still staring at Draco, however, a strange light in her eyes.

"So, you believe she is powerful for a Muggleborn and it would be an utter waste to have her magic serve a plebian function as a wife and homemaker." Sarabi mused. "You agree that magic of her caliber should serve a higher purpose. Be utilized for a greater force than this mundane existence she appears to want to lead."

Draco narrowed his eyes, as he began applauding himself, though he wasn't sure for what. Suspiciously, he eyed his mother-in-law.

"Yes, I suppose I do believe and agree." Draco took advantage of the sudden outbreak of raucous applause and cheers, glancing down briefly to see that Granger had arrived on the arm of Weasley and all of Morgana Hall was in a joyous uproar. "Mother Sarabi, what are you on about? However Granger chooses to ruin her life is none of my concern, certainly - and I didn't think it was yours, either."

Sarabi turned to him bearing a smile that made him take a step back from her, as the cheering and applause continued.

"It is my concern, as it should be your concern, as well - for the sake of my son's wellbeing."

"I don't understand."

Sarabi discreetly motioned down towards the dais, where Granger was stood at the podium, openly weeping with a rather fixed smile on her face. The applause didn't seem to want to end and the longer it went on, the more Granger cried and held her hand to her chest, as if deeply overwhelmed.

Draco frowned. "Granger? Granger is our concern, because...?"

Sarabi smiled knowingly.

"She is our concern because she is the perfect witch to become a Vessel for my son and break the wildness of his Djinn - only, you have to convince him of this, for he won't listen to it coming from me."

* * *

[**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: I have no opinion on whether a woman works or stays at home as a wife/mum, but there is a reason for this rhetoric in story and it is a plot point, not a personal commentary.

If it matters to people, the Weasley grandchildren in this story are all the same as canon, except for Ron/Hermione (for obvious AU reasons) and Harry/Ginny's children; H/G's children are: twins, James II and Sirius II, Rubeus Potter, and the baby Ginny is pregnant with will likely be Lily II. I thought the idea of (one of) the next generation of Weasley twins being named James and Sirius Potter was too adorable to pass up, while I have always been emphatically against Albus Severus being named...Albus Severus. As much as I can Snapefen sometimes - that was one of the most ludicrous things that JKR wrote and I refuse to participate in that bit of canon!OOC crack. Thus, canon Albus Severus is here named after Hagrid - who deserved to be named after more than either Dumbledore OR Snape, at the end of it.

Whatever you're thinking about the implied Ron/Lavender, you're right. The only thing that will come differently is how it unfolds. It will be...ugly, but not Weasley bashing. Not necessary in this story, for Ron's actions will speak for themselves in due time!

I'm excited to see what is thought of this rewrite and new direction of this story, as well seeing if there is any interest at that hiatus. Reviews are welcome and the next chapter will be coming soon!]


	4. IV: Under Pressure

**Part IV**: _Under Pressure_

**1 December 2010**

"He is your _son_, Sarabi. Your only child! How can you allow him to suffer like this, as his mother? You're purposefully withholding your help!"

"I am not allowing him to suffer. I have told you what the best solution is. An entire month ago, I told you what the best solution is. It is _you _who has sat stubbornly for these past thirty days, refusing to move forward and apply the solution at hand."

"Your solution makes no sense and never will! Blaise needs actual help - not your Byzantine plots to use and discard humans for your own pleasaure!"

Sarabi looked up sharply from her teacup, her violet-and-aureate eyes glittering dangerously from across the parlor. Draco was aware two seconds too late that his outburst would certainly be taken as an insult, his emphasis on humanity construed as a slur - and he closed his mouth, abruptly.

He wasn't going to apologize, because he meant what he said.

It had been a whole month since Sarabi had suggested her unthinkable and unrealistic plan to somehow secure Granger as a Vessel for Blaise. A month and a week since Blaise had been sequestered in the solarium back at their manor, half-Creature, half-human with increasing strain on his simuraculum, his human body. Draco felt it had been an entire lifetime since their vow renewal and he was becoming more and more desperate, more afraid for his husband's safety and wellness.

He wanted Blaise to be human again. Even if he were a hybird human, pureblood wizard with Creature hertiage.

He wanted their lives to go back to normal and for this unfortunate period in time to serve as a reminder and lesson, nothing more.

Sarabi knew how to achieve to this. She knew exactly what was needed to master the wildness of the Djinn, contain it once more, and allow Blaise to become himself again. All of this could be a bittersweet memory of from the time of their vow renewal - not anything that Blaise had to suffer through or Draco had to witness the suffering of.

All that stood in bewteen this being talked about and being applied was this obsession, this fixation that Sarabi had on Granger.

Granger and her apparent rare and powerful value as a Vessel for the Djinn that resided within Blaise.

Draco tried to keep from glaring, as Sarabi continued to stare at him with those Creature eyes of hers. She was waiting for him to backpedal or cower before her. Perhaps to humble himself as he always did, no longer being in the same station in life as her and her inferior in society, if it hadn't been for Blaise legitimating him again through marriage.

He wouldn't.

After an incredibly uncomfortable stretch of time, where Draco felt as though he were being flayed alive by her eyes alone, Sarabi looked back down at her tea leaves. Her voice was cold when she spoke again.

"If you'll allow me to explain, you will - "

"I don't want you to explain! I want you to - "

"Silence, pauper! Speak no more!"

Draco was surprised when his yell choked off in his throat and he was made to exactly as she'd ordered.

"I am the Lady of the Ancient and Most Ethical House of Shafiq!" Sarabi sounded like low peal of thunder, her Creature eyes darkening into something chilling. "You are but a married presence in my House and I will not tolerate disrespect, derision, or scorn from you. Not even if you _were _still the heir of the Ancient and Most Sincere House of Malfoy."

Draco could do nothing but sit and accept her disdained rebuke.

"I have found myself without patience any longer for your churlish behavior as it pertains to my son and his dilemma, thus I will share with you the reasoning behind this solution - and you _will _listen."

Draco wanted to pull out his hair by the handful. Nothing he said or did or refused was getting through to her. No matter how he yelled or resisted or tried to stand like steel against her, Sarabi was determined that Granger was the key to moving forward from this nightmare and would not be swayed. Under the silence of the thick magic that was her birthright as the Lady Shafiq, Draco could do nothing but sigh irritably and nod as if he were in agreement.

Sarabi glared at him balefully as she began speaking.

"If Blaise had listened to me when he was a child and allowed me to teach him of his hertiage and culture, this could have been avoided. His Djinn could have been integrated into his half-human self and would have grown with him, able to be apart of him intsead of a supression within him." Sarabi sniffed, bitterly, as she revealed: "I know this, because I did not know of my own Djinn until I was out of Hogwarts. It broke free from me when I married my first husband, much the same as Blaise's Djinn has, and once an untamed Djinn breaks free - there are only two avenues to master your Djinn."

Draco was indignant and fascinated, all at once.

Her confession that she had once been in the exact same predicament as Blaise was in now was something he'd never known before now.

Sarabi had always seemed as if she had been born knowing and thriving in her Creature heritage. She seemed to owe her successful integration into Wizarding society as a favor to the humans she was around, a token of her fortune to be the treasured only daughter of the late Lord Shafiq. By now, it was an open secret that the Lady Shafiq identified with her Creature heritage over her pureblood siring - and it was a bit disruptive to imagine that it had never been anything but. Never once would Draco had ever guessed that she hadn't always had control of the transcendant Djinn within her alluring human simaraculum.

His fascination pulled up short when he realized that with this very confession, Sarabi was admitting that she knew better than he could have guessed what Blaise was going through. And, still -

She refused to help him.

Nearly six weeks Blaise had been struggling and becoming worn down against the untamed Creature within him...and, Sarabi hadn't done anything about, despite knowing herself what it was like for him at the moment.

Sarabi ignored his glare, as she sat up straight and eyed him seriously.

"One of his two options is do to what you accuse me of desiring above all else: let the Djinn remain free and Blaise surrenders his Wizarding self to become a fullblooded Djinn."

Draco jerked forward, anxiously. His panicked outburst went unheard, his mouth moving but uttering no sound, and Sarabi nearly smirked with satisfication that her edict as the Lady of the House was still holding.

"This is not the option I want, despite what you may assume." Sarabi sniffed, clearly offended, as she continued: "If I never wanted my son to be a hybrid Creature, I would have never chosen a Wizarding man as his father. I could have allowed him to be a fullblood Djinn. He would have been entirely Creature with nothing of his grandfather's humanity passed along with him, if I'd chosen instead to birth with another Djinn. I deliberately did _not _choose this. My intentional choice to have a hybrid child should make it clear I want him to _stay _my hybrid child. I want him to continue as he is - but, with full mastery of his heritage, instead shame and self-loathing."

Draco was tempted to not believe her.

A tenderness that he had never imagined her to be capable of crept into her words, as Sarabi leaned forward as anxiously as he was, her eyes seeming to pierce through him with the intensity of what she said next.

"I would love nothing more than to see my boy returned to the perfect Creature hybrid I birthed him to be." Sarabi said, feelingly. "However, because his Djinn is now untamed, the only means of accomplishing this is now through the only other option he has. The ritual of Vesseling. He has to choose to create a bond with a Vessel."

Draco made an impatient motion, toward his throat. Almost distractedly, Sarabi snapped her finger, and the cinch of magic that has silenced him thus far was dissolved. Draco cleared his throat, trying not to sound too pointed, and took the moment to gather himself.

Knowing that his only other option besides this Vesseling act was to lose Blaise forever to the full-bloodedness of his Creature hertiage, Draco didn't see the need to interrupt, anymore. Sarabi had been correct.

He would listen and he needed to listen, for this was what he'd been desperate for since their vow renewal: Sarabi's knowledge, help, and support in restoring Blaise to his hybrid humanity.

With a nod, Draco quietly urged her to continue.

"A Vessel is a chosen human, who is able to become an outlet for the power of the Djinn. A part of the Djinn's power will flow through the Vessel from the Djinn, creating a continuous circuit of energy that gives the Djinn more control over itself - more room to breathe, as it were, for the Djinn will be contained over two human bodies, instead of just the one." Sarabi raised her rounded chin upwards slightly, sounding rather pleased with herself when she declared: "I want Granger to be the Vessel for Blaise, for I've worked alongside her and know her magic. For a human witch, she has a mightily powerful magical core and her magic has the mass capacity to support the magic of a Djinn without harming or overpowering her own core."

Draco closed his eyes briefly.

"You _cannot _just decide that she is the right one and have it happen." Draco looked at her, troubled and irritated once more. "Do you have any idea who you're speaking of, Mother Sarabi? She is _Hermione bloody Granger_ \- she's as impossible as Potter to touch!"

Sarabi looked down her nose at him, haughtily.

"So you think. I have all the confidence in the world that I can not only touch her, but have her come willingly." Sarabi smiled in a way that could have been pretty - on a witch that was fully human. The curve of her mouth was like a honeyed blade, her Creature eyes glittering predatorily.

Draco was both curious and uneasy, all at once. "You seem so very confident. Just how do you suppose you'll make this come to pass?"

Sarabi's smile became wider. "All you need to be assured of is that I have a plan. Every detail is ready to be put in motion and Miss Granger _will _come without being called. I shall take care of everything myself, but not until you do _your part_. I've been insisting this entire time that it is critical that you get Blaise to accept creating a Vessel and that is for a reason, _aibnih qanuniaan_."

Draco rubbed at his eyes again. His mind was racing thousands of meters per minute, his thoughts crashing around frenetically in his head. There was so much he wanted to say - so much he _should _be saying, as he engaged in this unthinkable conversation with a woman who he both feared and respected. After a few minutes of trying to decide where to start and failing, he asked the question he should have been asking all along.

"You keep saying I have to do my part - but, why would this be my part?" Draco eyed her, both thoughtful and wary. "You just made it clear that this is a solitary ambition that you need no companionship for, yet you seemed quite dependent upon me, for whatever reason."

Sarabi appeared to be trying not to roll her eyes at him.

"For the simple reason that you are his husband. His Wizarding blood recognizes the unity of your magic through marriage, though the Djinn is untamed and has no such restrictions. If your martial bond believes that Blaise is trying to stray from its commitment, his Wizarding magic may strike against him - and we don't want that. Therefore, as a bonded union, the decision to allow Granger into your bond as a Vessel must come from the both of you, not just Blaise."

Draco sat back in his armchair, heavily. "I suppose you would have just gone to Blaise and made the offer, it were only up to him," he mused, suddenly resentful of everything about this and the unusual choices that would have to be made because of it. "What if I don't want to open our marital bond to anyone? Granger, of all people, at that!"

Before Sarabi could answer, the chime of her Floo went off. She had a visitor, one she was expecting, and this seemed to be where their conversation would stop for now, as Sarabi rose to her feet.

"If you don't want to open your bond, then you must want a fullblooded Djinn as your husband." Sarabi pulled herself together, everything about her a glowing, beautiful human woman, instead of the Creature-dominant witch she allowed to be seen in the privacy of her own home. "I'd think carefully about wants versus needs at this time, _aibnih qanuniaan_. There is a limited frame of time in which to execute this plan and you'll want to make your decision - and make it soon."

Sarabi swept from the room, leaving Draco alone with the roar of his thoughts crashing around in his head.

Either he did nothing for Blaise and allowed him to fade into a fullblood Djinn, no longer possessing his human self nor his Wizarding magic - or, he did the impossible and allowed another person into their union as a third bonder, a Troth.

He had a decision to make, indeed.

Draco just didn't have any idea of how he could possibly decide something as unexpected and unthinkable as this.

* * *

[**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: Many people have asked why divorcing Ron would lead to the outcomes stated in the summary - nameless and destitute. There were hints all throughout this chapter as how this is possible, but what's most important is now we see where this road starts. However, just because Sarabi is plotting on Hermione doesn't mean it will have a negative outcome. **UNCOUPLING** is not a dubcon (dubious content) fic by any means, but we are dealing with a family of Slytherins that have designs on the thoroughly Gryffindor Hermione. She will come willingly, she'll just have her path guided in a way that she may or may not appreciate, once the truth is revealed.

In the next chapter, we see more of Hermione and things start taking a turn for her, quite noticeably. A fair bit of angst ahead, but don't worry - we're almost to the steam and romance of this tale. It's coming, I promise!

Thank you very much for your reviews and continued interest, even after the rewrite. The next part should be ready to post fairly soon, for most of it is written and almost ready to be uploaded. Until next time!]


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